


Thanks For Asking

by AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans England (Hetalia), do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 13:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19210291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate/pseuds/AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate
Summary: "No, no, I... I like it here. I'm just... wondering when they'll give up. After all, there have been 29 knights who have already tried and failed, yet they continue to come. When will it end? When will they give up?"





	Thanks For Asking

**Author's Note:**

> This is a vent piece. I have happier Hetalia pieces planned, I have missed these characters.

Arthur didn’t allow his face to portray any emotion as the screams of yet another failed rescue floated up through the window and into his ears. He simply turned back to his painting and continued to work, shoving down the pangs of disappointment that echoed through his fractured heart. This knight hadn’t been any different from any of the others, too arrogant and desperate for glory to care about the person he was supposed to be rescuing. None of Arthur’s protectors took kindly to this attitude and never hesitated to send those knights on to the next life. It had stopped bothering Arthur after he heard some of the things the knights said. He didn’t appreciate his friends being dehumanized and threatened like that. 

 

“ _ Mon petit lapin _ ? Are you alright?” Francis’s voice called from below. Arthur didn’t answer, knowing Francis would come and find him anyway, regardless of a response or not. Sure enough, the dragon poked his snout in through the window, blocking Arthur’s light. Arthur huffed and turned around, making sure his hood was up to hide his eyes. 

 

“I was fine until you blocked my light with your large head, Francis,” Arthur muttered, ignoring the small drop of green paint that landed on the floor. He’d clean it up later. 

 

The dragon pulled back, dipping his head until his eye was in line with Arthur’s. “Hm. You only insult me when something is bothering you.” 

 

“Then something must be bothering me all the time because I insult you every time we speak.” 

 

“Lately, yes. Are you not happy, Arthur?” 

 

“No, no, I… I like it here. I’m just… wondering when they’ll give up.” His voice trailed off at the end and he pulled his knees to his chest, the brush falling to the floor with a bright clatter. “After all, there have been 29 knights who have already tried and failed, yet they continue to come. When will it end? When will they give up?” 

 

“Oh,  _ lapin _ … most likely never. Humans are too stubborn and only see people who just wish to be left alone as prizes to be conquered.” Francis sighed heavily, smoke coming out of his nostrils. “You know, my offer would work-” 

 

“I can’t leave!” Arthur yelled, jumping up, green eyes blazing. “I can’t leave Kiku or Mattie or Ludwig or any of the villagers! I can’t leave my friends!” 

 

“Calm,  _ lapin _ , it is merely a last resort option,” Francis crooned. “Gilbert and I can continue to defend you from all who wish to take you as a trophy.” 

 

Arthur sat back down slowly, wrapping his arms around himself under his cloak. “Thank you for that, Francis. Truly. I just… wish there were another way.” 

 

“As do I, Arthur. As do I.”

* * *

 

“Good morning, my Prince! How is Francis?” Antonio the merchant asked as Arthur walked in, waving and smiling. Arthur lowered his hood and gave a small smile in return, trying not to think about the pleading eyes of number 41 staring into his last night. That one had been smarter than most, waiting for the dragon to be asleep before sneaking in and trying to spirit Arthur away quietly. Arthur hadn’t even had time to scream before he was being bundled away, and it was only thanks to his quick kick to the wall that he was here. Gilbert had heard, and nothing could stop the angry ghost once Arthur was in danger. Number 41 had left pleading for Arthur to help him while tugging at his sleeve, trying to use it to stay above the ground. 

 

“Francis is well, thank you Antonio,” Arthur finally answered, snapping himself out of his thoughts with a single firm shake of the head. “He sends his regards.” 

 

“Bad night?” Antonio’s eyes are as round as moons. “Is he okay?”

 

“He’s angry at himself for not noticing Sir Jerks-A-Lot last night,” Gilbert called, floating in behind Arthur. “Almost nabbed Arthur.” 

 

“Oh gosh, Arthur, are you okay?” Antonio’s accent thickened and Arthur held up his hands to placate him, not willing to translate Antonio’s rapid-fire concerns in his native language. 

 

“I’m fine. Could I get some of those chocolates Francis likes? They’d cheer him up a bit, I imagine.” Antonio instantly vanished into the storeroom to find what Arthur had asked for, leaving the Lost Prince and the ghost to have a chat. 

 

“It wasn’t either of your faults,” Arthur stated, refusing to meet Gilbert’s eyes. “It’s mine. You’ve given me options to fix this and I refuse to take them because I am selfish.” 

 

“Nope, no, you can’t blame yourself for all the awful guys who keep trying to take you back somewhere you’d hate,” Gilbert growled. 

 

“I’ve gotten 41 men killed, Gilbert,” Arthur replied coldly. “I think I’ve earned the right to blame myself for something.” 

 

“Doesn’t mean you should or need to.” Silence descended, broken only by Antonio coming back with the chocolates, giving the two of them a bright smile. 

 

“I’m always available to talk, okay guys? Enjoy your day, and tell Francis I say hi!” With that, Arthur and Gilbert walked out and began to head back to the tower that had once been a prison but had now become a home, one Arthur wouldn’t trade for the world.

* * *

 

“... congratulations Sir Jones, you’ve passed-”

 

The rest of Gilbert’s words blurred after that point as Arthur’s thoughts spun to a screeching halt. This knight, knight number 50, had passed. He had passed and Gilbert and Francis had failed and Arthur had lost his last bit of freedom in this world. Everything was falling apart. 

 

He hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. He most likely wouldn’t be able to, as this knight would probably want to get him back to the castle as soon as possible. Feli would cry himself to sleep more often, as Arthur was the only one who could calm him from nightmares. Ludwig would no longer have a partner to discuss literature with. Kiku would have to find a new art partner. Mattie would miss Arthur’s help with the horses, for sure. Antonio would lose his best customer. 

 

And Gilbert and Francis… oh, their hearts would  _ shatter _ . They would blame themselves for not being better, for not protecting him better, for not making the challenges hard enough. Perhaps Arthur could manage to visit them, once a year or so, if his new husband-to-be was kind. He most likely would not be kind. This was the end of everything. 

 

A knock sounded at the door. “Elizabeth? Would you like help getting prepared?” Arthur swallowed and stood, walking to the closet, staring up at the dress he never thought he would have to wear again. 

 

“No, that… my thanks, G-ghost, but I can handle it myself.” He refused to possibly put Gilbert in danger by revealing his true name to this knight. He could at least give Gilbert that small mercy. 

 

Arthur pulled off his cloak when the knight’s voice on the other side of the door made him freeze.

 

“I thought there was a cute boy here, not a girl?” 

 

“Where ever did you hear that?” Gilbert’s laugh was tight, short, far too forced and fake. 

 

“The villagers told me. His name is Arthur, right?” Arthur spun and began to quietly stalk towards the door, hope fluttering up from his stomach for the first time since he rode atop Francis’s back for the only time as he escaped the awful fate set before him. “I mean, not that I wouldn’t still like to rescue a princess if she was here, I just thought-” 

 

Arthur threw open the door, barely breathing. “Yes, yes there is a boy named Arthur who lives here. No princess. There was never a princess here to rescue.” 

 

The knight, blonde and blue eyed and tanned with a spray of freckles across his cheeks, turned to face him. “Well, that’s still awkward, since I’m not on a rescue mission? Unless you want to be rescued!” 

 

“No, no I do not want to be rescued. I want to stay here with my friends and spend the rest of my life in peace,” Arthur choked out, vision blurring considerably. “I’m terribly sorry you came all this way for nothing, Sir…” 

 

“Oh, not sir. I’m not a knight. I’m just Alfred.” Gilbert had vanished at some point, leaving the two blondes alone, face to face, bearing their souls to one another. “I’m just Alfred and all I wanted was to ask a question.”

 

“What question?” 

 

“Are you happy?” A year ago, Arthur would have had to take a day to contemplate the answer. Six months ago, he would have hemmed and hawed before giving you an unsatisfying answer. A month ago, he would have tearily told you no. Now, though, now Arthur knew the answer without question. 

 

“Yes. Yes I am happy, Alfred.” The taller of the two gave a quick nod before stepping back and holding out his hand. Arthur blinked and carefully took it, eyes widening as Alfred bent down on one knee, still holding his hand. 

 

“Then, I swear, from this day forth, I’ll do my best to keep you that way.” Arthur tilted his head to the side, blinking once, twice, three times, before responding. 

 

“And how will you do that?” 

 

“Princess Elizabeth of Albion is dead, yeah?” Arthur slowly nodded. “She never existed, in fact,” Alfred continued. “The least I could do is tell people the truth.” 

 

Arthur smiled slightly. “That, Alfred, is the best possible thing you could do to make me happy. In fact, it might make me happy enough to agree to something resembling a courtship in a few month’s time.” 

 

“Only if you want,” Alfred insisted. “And I’m just being a decent person.” 

 

“No, Alfred,” Arthur whispered, tearing up yet again. “You’re being a good one.”  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Feel free to leave your thoughts below. 
> 
> ~Q


End file.
